


Ecstasy

by Lanna Michaels (lannamichaels)



Category: Scottish Actor RPF, The Establishment (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: rpg: Establishment (AU)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-08-10
Updated: 2004-08-10
Packaged: 2017-10-18 18:18:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/191827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lannamichaels/pseuds/Lanna%20Michaels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's time for Gerry to move on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ecstasy

**Author's Note:**

> Beta that saved my life: [](http://lunasv.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://lunasv.livejournal.com/)**lunasv**  
>  Fandom: RPS. Establishment AU.  
> Pairing: Gerard/Conner (OMC)  
> Warning: Evil!Gerry  
> A/N: This is an Establishment AU based on a character created for the Establishment game (Gerard Butler) and for said character's backstory (Conner, Jesse). It is not to be associated with that game or any other AUs created from that game by any other participants of it. This stands alone.

They did it together, Conner and Gerry. They would find some sweet innocent, someone who would never ever admit to enjoying what the two of them did, and tie him up in Conner's basement. They couldn't afford real restraints, but a woodshopping friend had found blueprints to an Iron Maiden and they'd done their best. They had that and shackles and the better-than-marijuana joy of watching someone break for them, watching someone cry.

But senior year Conner made the mistake of boasting to Gerry that the man who could take him down hadn't been born. Gerry had taken that as a challenge.

First time Gerry twisted Conner's hands behind his back, Conner protested. He struggled. He thought Gerry was just joking.

His mistake. Gerry never joked.

The breaking had been scientific and completely methodical. Gerry kept notebooks, marking down what worked and didn't. Restraints worked. So did humiliation.

His Pavlov sequence, as he called it, worked best of all.

Conner was fully trained now. He didn't whimper as Gerry put his feet up on his shoulders and stretched out. Conner was submissive, obedient, and never raised his eyes or dared to look at his betters. Rob and Tom were amazed, but neither complained. They wanted to fuck Conner, had since they first discovered sex was fun, but Conner never bottomed for anyone.

That was the first thing Gerry changed.

Conner had bucked and scratched and screamed like any young colt being broken the first time Gerry had fucked him. But Gerry knew it wouldn't last. Eventually Conner would take to the rein and bit docily, knowing any disobedient would be futile and painful.

But Gerry was shocked at how quickly Conner broke.

It didn't take more than three months for Conner to accept his new role. Gerry had pushed him in classes, ordering him to study harder, telling him slaves needed to support their masters. Conner cried the first time Gerry explained, in dark cold cruel detail, what he was: A slave. A pet. Not even human. Conner let somebody else take control of him and no man would ever do that. He was only good enough to serve. A _dog_.

After several thousand repetitions during B stage of the Pavlov sequence, Conner began to believe it. That was Gerry's greatest triumph.

They had been friends once, but Gerry was never one to let friendship stand in the way of getting what he wanted, and now he wanted Conner. Conner had all but dared him to take control, and take control Gerry did. They had been partners before, but now it was a different sort of partnership, one in which Gerry had firm control and Conner had nothing.

The fact that Conner soon learned to like it, even crave it, did not matter. _Conner_ did not matter. He was, after all, just another slave. Gerry had broken many of them, but they always lost their appeal soon after. What fun was there in a slave who accepted his fate?

Gerry prodded Conner with his foot and the naked man knelt up for orders. His hair had been buzz-cut the night before to get rid any purple dye remaining from the last time Conner had been especially good. The hair was so short it look almost blonde, but it would grow back Conner's usual black soon enough that it didn't matter. There were six piercings in each of Conner's ears and he had a scar across his nipple from a piercing gone wrong. He had other scars -- from Gerry's knives and Gerry's hand and, once, when Gerry had broken his arm.

Gerry was particularly proud of the whip scars on Conner's back.

Then there were the tattoos. Silver handcuffs adorned the back of Conner's neck and he had black x's on the web of each thumb. Each x signified something Conner had done dreadfully wrong and, after Conner had done it for the second time, Gerry had threatened that next time a toe was coming off. Conner had never done it again.

Conner had never done a lot of things again. He was obedient now, docile and perfect. Gerry nodded in approval. The slave looked good. Very heavily marked, but the new owner didn't care. Gerry approved of Jesse. The man had tamed more than a few slaves in his time, but he was obsessed with getting Conner, and so Jesse was the first one Gerry called when he tired of the slave.

There was only one thing Gerry wanted in return for a trained slave. He was tired of being a lawyer, of paperwork, and boring legal work. Gerry wanted something more. Jesse's cousin was a movie agent. And that was the price for taking Conner; Jesse had contacted his cousin and arranged everything.

Now all there was to do was to inform Conner of the trade. Gerry dug his heel into Conner's neck and watched in amusement as Conner's cock grew longer and harder. Conner had never used to like pain and it was only added into the Pavlov sequence as an afterthought. Conner had taken to it just as he had taken to everything else. Gerry smiled wistfully. He might actually miss him. Such responsive slaves were rare. But he had made up his mind. Conner was broken and tamed and so Gerry had no use for him.

Outside, Gerry could hear, a car door closed and keys jingled. This time of night, it could only be Jesse.

"Well, slave," Gerry said, picking up his bottle of Jack Daniels. "It's been a fun ride." Conner made a noise like he was going to look at Gerry and then he flinched and stayed as he was. He knew better than to think that he needed to understand everything Gerry said. Conner was a stupid boy and he knew he was in no position to comprehend everything his master said. Master was so much better than he was that something like that would be impossible. "Your new owner's here," Gerry went on, crossing his ankles behind Conner's head and locking him in, "and he's agreed to take possession immediately."

"Yes, Gerry," Conner said automatically, response drilled into him, but then he did almost a double take. "New master?"

Gerry looked down at him fondly. Yes, he would miss him. But there were better things ahead, and Gerry could always visit. "New master," he confirmed. "I'm tired of you."

It took Conner a good minute to gather enough courage to look up. When he did, Gerry could see the tears running down the slave's face. "Haven't I been a good slave, Gerry?" Conner asked, sounding like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. But Conner knew Gerry better than anyone. He shouldn't be surprised to be cut loose. How odd. Emotion was getting in the way of something Conner knew to be fact. "Haven't I done everything you said?" Conner searched Gerry's face, looking for some indication Gerry was joking. Stupid slave. Gerry never joked. "Don't you want me anymore?"

"I trained you too well," Gerry tsked. "I have no more use for you. I'm frankly surprised I kept you this long."

"But I can be bad!" Conner protested. He tried to pull back and then ducked under Gerry's legs and rolled away. "See! I can be bad!" He stood up and looked around in terror, finally grabbing one of Gerry's sweatshirts and tossing it over his head, forgetting to put his arms through the sleeves. Gerry watched it all from the couch, drinking steadily from the whiskey bottle.

"I can be disobedient," Conner insisted with growing panic. "Please, Gerry, don't give me away. Please, I promise, I'll be as bad as you want. You'll have to punish me over and over again. I'll be horrible! I promise, Gerry, I swear, please don't get rid of me."

Gerry saluted him with his glass. His slave could be so cute at times. "No."

"But-"

"The answer is no," Gerry cut him off. "And that's final. Act out all your want. It will only give your new master a bad impression of your behaviour."

"But..." Conner's tears spilled over, making clear streaks down his angular face. His knees shook like he was going to fall to the floor. Amazing things shock could do to the system, Gerry thought with approval. Amazing. "I'm being bad. Don't you want to punish me?"

"No. You're being bad. But you're still trained." Gerry assessed the slave for a long moment and decided Conner couldn't understand the difference between trained and untrained. The slave might just be as rationally blind as he thought he was. Gerry raised his voice and barked out the harsh command. " ** _Present_**."

Conner was on his knees before he could think, his head lowered, his hands resting palm-upwards on his splayed thighs. Gerry could tell the exact moment Conner realized just how quickly he'd obeyed. New tears formed and they started coming down harder, but there were no sobs. Conner knew better than to make pathetic noises. Gerry had been right all along, Conner realized in that moment. He really was just a submissive cunt, acting like a dominant to tempt someone to put him down where he really belonged. He was just an uppity slave wearing master's clothing in hope that his best friend would do what Conner didn't have the balls to ask for. Conner was just a stupid little slave, something to be discarded at whim.

Gerry nodded his approval. "Now get the door," he ordered, just a little softer. He liked tears, but he hated when slaves cried for no reason. Gerry would shed no tears when Conner was gone. Crying over emotion was a weakness and Gerry did not allow himself any weaknesses.

Conner had to stand to open the door, but Jesse didn't pay any attention to him when he came in. He had to duck as he entered the room, but Jesse's gaze quickly found Gerry and on Gerry it stayed.

Gerry waved at him from the couch. "Glad you could pick him up. Want a drink?"

"No, I'm set." Jesse looked around, but didn't seem to notice Conner. Slaves were just part of the décor. "Nice place."

"Thanks. The slave decorated."

Only then did Jesse condescend to look at the slave kneeling carefully between the two dominants as if not sure which to go to. "Beautiful skin," Jesse commented. He ran a finger down Conner's shoulder blade, tracing two small scars. "I can see why you marked it up."

"He makes a great canvas," Gerry agreed. "I've all his papers here." Gerry tossed a heavy envelope to Jesse, who caught it easily. "Driver's license, IDs, credit cards, checkbook, miscellany. I can have his clothes sent over or you can take them now. They're not much," Gerry went on. "I don't allow him to be dressed in the house."

Jesse nodded. "Thank you, Gerry." He didn't expect Gerry to introduce him to the slave. In their circles, that simply wasn't done. Jesse smiled and put his hand beneath Conner's chin, forcing his head up. "Hello, little one. I'm Jesse Coltrane. You can call me master."

Conner's tears had mostly dried, but his voice broke as he whispered, "Yes, master." He was still in Gerry's house and so there was still a shred of hope. Maybe this was a test. Maybe Gerry and Jesse would laugh it off and Conner would be allowed to stay. Maybe Gerry was just trying to see how loyal Conner was. And Conner was loyal. He would do anything for Gerry, but that anything did not include leaving him.

"I've wanted you for a very long time." Jesse stroked Conner's bottom lip, tracing the bumps and the bruises. "We're going to have so much fun together." Then he leaned in close as if telling Conner a secret, his hot breath ghosting over Conner's ear. Despite himself, Conner shivered. It was shockingly intimate. "Gerry was a fool to give you up," Jesse whispered, "just for another career."

"I love him," Conner whispered back, ducking his head, trying to draw on all the training Gerry gave him for comfort. "I don't want to leave him. Do you-do you care?" Conner knew Jesse wouldn't. He couldn't remember the man, but he knew the type. He'd _been_ the type. Those kind of masters didn't care if the slaves wanted it or not. They took erections as a sign of enjoyment and thus as a sign that the slave wanted it. Conner knew better. He knew you could enjoy things you hated, and not enjoy things you loved. And there was no way for the master to distinguish between the two.

"No, pet. I don't care. But you'll soon forget him." Jesse's eyes met Gerry's across the room and Gerry winked. "I promise."

Ten minutes later, Jesse and Conner were gone, but Gerry's ears were still ringing from Conner's protests. The slave had been almost calmed when Gerry had stroked him and allowed him to keep the GU sweatshirt. Gerry had no use for it anymore, and Conner seemed stubborn enough not to leave without something of Gerry's.

But behind him Conner had left several boxes, mostly scrapbooks and mementoes. Maybe Gerry would burn them. Maybe he'd put them into storage in case Conner ever freed himself and wanted them back. That seemed a distinct possibility, unless Jesse was better than he looked. Or maybe Gerry would keep them as mementos and souvenirs of a former life, with a former friend.

Gerry had always been the better dominant.  
   
 


End file.
